Page:Oxford Book of English Verse 1250-1918.djvu/594

 WILLIAM COWPER

For though thou gladly wouldst fulfil The same kind office for me still, Thy sight now seconds not thy will,

My Mary!

But well thou play'dst the housewife's part, And all thy threads with magic art Have wound themselves about this heart,

My Mary'

Thy indistinct expressions seem

Like language tftter'd in a dream,

Yet me they charm, whate'er the theme,

My Mary'

Thy silver locks, once auburn bright, Are still more lovely in my sight Than golden beams of orient light,

My Mary'

For could 1 view nor them nor thce, What sight worth seeing could I sce ? The sun would rise in vain for me,

My Mary'

Partakers of thy sad decline,

Thy hands their little force rebign ,

Yet, gently press'd, press gently mine,

My Mary'

Such feebleness of limbs thou prov'st, That now at every step thou mov'st Upheld by two, yet still thou lov'st,

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